Legacy of Kain VII: Guardians
by thats-a-moray
Summary: Raziel goes to the human city in search of the new Pillar Guardians, where he is opposed by a religion that unknowingly worships the Elder God. Meanwhile, Kain deals with the rising threat of a fractured empire. Touch of romance: Raziel x OC.


**AN:** Updates may be sporadic for a while. I'm hoping to get back to updating once a week eventually. This chapter is slightly unpolished, so critique is highly appreciated!

This is the sequel to Time Streamer and second in what I'm hoping will be a trilogy. I was hoping to include an opening quote, as I did for Time Streamer, but I haven't found one I like yet. When I do, I'll add it in. :) Enjoy!

* * *

The white bone quill hovered in midair above the table, suspended in a halo of blue light. Raziel stared down the page like a foe. Centuries of sitting at Kain's table while his sire regaled he and his brothers with tales of conquest from Nosgoth's ancient past had done him no favors; he was simply not a storyteller.

Nor was he an historian. He had a passion for learning history, which made the transition into his new role somewhat easier, but no desire to catalog it. Such tasks he left to his offspring, the Razielim historians, their works now lost to time. But it was not the history of his clan he wished to record. The task he had set for himself was of far greater importance and scope.

The house in which he had secluded himself was nestled against the inner wall of the Silenced Cathedral. Until recently, it was unreachable by humans. Erste Stadt's military had put the captured vampire worshipers to work building a staircase to the overlook. Raziel initially resisted the idea, for he valued the privacy of his new nest. Now that the staircase was complete, he found that the addition did not effect his solitude much. General Kranz remained reluctant to meet with him face to face. In his place, he sent Joseph Hasek, the former Major and Raziel's appointed envoy to the human world.

Like the buildings on the ground, the house was cocoon shaped with glassless windows letting in a view to the outside world. There was little to see, except for the city below. From this vantage point Raziel could observe Erste Stadt's military moving about what was once his brother Zephon's stronghold.

It was a small but cozy sanctuary from the hussle and bussle below. The master bedroom - more of a lounge, for vampires only slept for pleasure - had been appointed as his study. He brought a few things here from his old den in Moebius's complex: the astrolabe he pilfered from a gypsy camp in Nosgoth's ancient past, the tavern sign from Vasserbünde, which he found amusing, and the yellow daffodils. Sadly, in the months since, the daffodils had perished. But Kranz and his men had seen them before they passed away. The brightly colored flowers made a strong impression on them. They had never seen natural colors shine so bright.

Apparently, height was no indication of status in Zephon's city. The largest homes were built on the ground while those that bulged the walls were small by comparison, as if the Zephonim had run out of room on the ground and been forced to build up. Indeed, when Raziel infiltrated this city as a wraith, he found it overflowing with Zephon's children. Now only a handful remained, prisoners in their own home. The others fled in a resistance Raziel had predicted and used to his advantage.

Today the door to Raziel's quarters was open. He set the bone quill down on his desk, for he expected Hasek to appear at any time now. He had left the door open to him as a sign of welcome, because he grew tired of Hasek's ritual of knocking and requesting entry when he knew, well in advance, to expect him.

The sound of footfalls coming up the stairs woke him from his thoughts. He stood from his chair, flexing his wings and smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes. At Hasek's suggestion he had used some of the money he earned from the military to hire a tailor in Erste Stadt. The design was partially inspired by the clothes he saw worn by Janos and Kairos. They fit a winged creature well and gave off an air of wisdom and authority severely lacking in his old leathers.

Since losing his right arm, Hasek had allowed his beard to grow out but kept it trim. That was preferable to nicking himself every time he tried to shave. While seeing a tailor in Erste Stadt, Raziel had also taken measurements to a bespectacled old man Hasek called a _prosthetist._ It was the least he could do. However, the end result was more ghastly than he had imagined. Fashioned from a battered steel gauntlet, leather straps and scrap metal, the limb was cumbersome and hard with protesting joints that shrieked. Hasek barely disguised the device by means of long sleeves and an over-sized glove. When he walked in stride the false limb swung like a club.

Aside from defending the city, Raziel had spent the past month advising on the creation of a new supply route, since the previous one had been raided. Tomorrow morning Hasek would be returning to Erste Stadt by that route. Raziel would be going with him.

"Good evening, Hasek. You have something on your mind?" It was not a question in the truest sense. He only wished to avoid flaunting the infuriating omniscience of the other Time Guardians.

"I just wanted to speak with you before we head out tomorrow. How is your project coming along?"

Raziel glanced at the scrawled pages with a slight frown. Without the need for sleep he had been free to work on it during the odd hours of the night and early morning, when the men were sleeping and he had little else to do, yet for all his effort he had accomplished relatively little. "It's coming along. I fear no one will want to read it when it's finished."

Hasek wandered over to the table and looked at some of the pages. "No one reads the Book of Fate either, but they all believe it."

_"Claim_ to believe it," Raziel corrected. Whether Hasek believed in the Book of Fate or not depended on who he was talking to. In private, with only Raziel to listen, Hasek had confessed apostasy. No doubt there were other dissenters.

"I mean people will believe whatever is popular. You have a good message, so people will believe it."

Raziel tapped his claws on the desk. "This is not about belief. It's about knowledge. To avoid the mistakes of the past there are certain things your people must come to understand: the true nature of the Pillars, the roles of the Guardians, the Blood Curse - all of it. That is why this book needs to be perfect."

Hasek raised his eyebrows. "You want to tell them about the Blood Curse?"

"At some point, I have to. But not right now." The Pillars required Guardians with vampire blood. As vampires were no longer being born, satisfying the Pillars required turning their human Guardians - a necessary evil. However, the humans were far from ready to know that much.

Finding a cure for the Blood Curse could take centuries. With the war going on it would not happen any time soon. He hoped the humans would be ready to understand his dilemma by the time the new Guardians came of age. With Hasek's help it might be possible. He watched Hasek's face crinkle in concern.

What Raziel found strange was how the time stream fragmented under the influence of free-will. It was never just random. There were robust, stout trunks where the time stream flowed steady. The Zephonim rebellion had been one of these, practically inevitable. Most events were not certainties. Punctuated by branches that fanned out infinitely, the time stream grew out more like a tree than a river. And yet the time stream was also a river, for it flowed with a strong current that carried individual souls along, sometimes whether they willed it or not. Like blood vessels.

So Hasek was right to be uncertain. There was no telling how these humans would react to the news that the creatures that had subjugated them for thousands of years were also Nosgoth's only hope for salvation. The task Raziel put before him was daunting, but he had complete faith.

"You have more to say," Raziel prompted, drawing Hasek out of his thoughts. Time seemed to move too slowly. As much as he wanted to avoid the ostentatious behavior of previous Time Streamers he now found the lulls in conversation infuriating.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. It's going to be difficult to disguise your... 'condition' from the city. Some of the men are starting to grow suspicious. They say you never eat, you never drink, you have claws and fangs. You look more human than vampire, but I'm afraid it won't be enough."

"They can't prove I'm vampire," Raziel said calmly.

"No, but if word gets around the city we're going to have problems. General Kranz has said he doesn't care what you are as long as you're on our side. Most of the men seem to agree, but if Erste Stadt turns against you, a lot of things are going to change. We can't have you here without their support. The Oculites would love to have you exposed. You're stomping on their territory."

Hasek had a point. The vampire hunters were obligated to follow orders. Even if most of the men believed he was a vampire, if General Kranz ordered them to protect him, they would have to. Erste Stadt's citizens were under no such discipline. "Rest assured I have plans for the church."

"I know." The former Major drew a deep breath. "I'm afraid my original plan of buying blood from the butchers isn't going to pan out. It's too obvious; the Oculites would latch onto it immediately. They could bring up a lot of uncomfortable questions. If Erste Stadt learns to value you the way the General and I do, maybe then, but right now the atmosphere is too tense."

Raziel allowed him to finish. This was what he was expecting Hasek to come to him about. When _remembering_ the future, future conversations were blurred, dreamlike. The subject of each discussion, its major points, were usually clear. Most of the time that was all he needed. Raziel crossed his arms. He knew Hasek would not like his alternative. "So we continue as before."

"I'm not comfortable with that. Once we reach Erste Stadt those cultists will be free people."

The 'cultists' Hasek spoke of were defectors. After they took control of Zephon's territory, some of the cultists living in the Cathedral renounced their alliance to the Zephonim and Kain to join forces with their liberators from Erste Stadt. Since the horses brought with the military were too valuable to bleed, and the loyal cultists were too untrustworthy, Raziel hand chose a few of the defecting cultists to be his bleeders.

"Circumstances have changed."

"But we agreed this was only temporary."

"We have no choice. I've already spoken to them." Raziel narrowed his eyes critically. "They are being compensated, Hasek. Regardless of how it seems to you, they are far better off now than they were under Zephonim rule."

Hasek knew that the money would be a great help to them when they reached Erste Stadt. Some would be taken in by the church, others would join the military, while others would work as housekeepers and servants until they earned enough money to set up a home for themselves.

Those that failed to find their place in the new city would meet their end on the streets with the other homeless. To survive, some might flee to the fabled Undercity to re-join Kain's vampire cult. The money Raziel gave to his bleeders would help them avoid these two fates, he believed. But Hasek thought otherwise. "I don't see how they can start new lives if you continue to treat them like food."

Raziel's wings twitched. He closed the distance between them and stopped to look Hasek directly in the eyes. "I don't."

The weight of his gaze was like a feather to Hasek. "Then why not -"

"Because I could kill you. Taking that much blood from one person is dangerous." His voice softened, bordering on tenderness, "You've already done enough for me. I'm grateful."

Hasek relieved himself of a heavy sigh, breaking eye contact as he backed away. He seemed to be struggling to say something. "I know you keep saying you never asked for this curse. I just don't understand how you can seem so indifferent to something you claim to hate."

"Shall I compose a sonnet to express my lament?" he said with a comical flourish of his hand. Hasek shot back with a grave look of disapproval. Disappointed, Raziel relented, "You may not see it, but I do care."

The former Major fell silent for a short time. This time Raziel allowed him to think in peace. He seemed to need it. Finally, Hasek gave in. It was not a happy sight. "Right. I suppose you're right."

"I want you to keep looking for other solutions. If you could find a reliable source of non-human blood, that would be ideal."

"Of course." He cast him an uneasy glance. Such looks made Raziel uneasy. Sometimes he feared Hasek would come to look at him as he did all other vampires, as something to be despised. The closer they became, the more obvious his monstrosity.

As Hasek turned to leave, Raziel stopped him. "Would you send for Shadya? I would like to be at full strength tomorrow."

Hasek hesitated at the door, turned and nodded. As the door closed Raziel turned to the stack of papers on his desk with a heavy expression. Janos would know how to make the words of his book sing. Whenever Raziel tried to capture his old friend's voice on the page, it was like reaching for a ghost. Shaking the shadows from his mind, he started putting the pages in order for tomorrow's journey.

Once everything was in order, Raziel went to the window that looked down on the city. There was a buzz in the air tonight. With the supply caravan came a new round of vampire hunters to guard the Silenced Cathedral. Many of the men who fought beside Raziel on the day they took the Cathedral would be going home tomorrow, to their wives and families. Since the caravan arrived, only he and Hasek seemed unaffected by the spell. The day before Hasek had confided that he felt morose about the trip. Since the passing of his wife and child, the former Major had always dreaded the inevitable return to his empty house.

"I'll be sure to keep you busy," Raziel had offered. Hasek had replied with an unfortunate chuckle, "Maybe this time I won't drink myself stupid."

Sensing that Shadya would be here soon, he turned from the window and headed into the foyer to greet her. Hasek had cautioned Raziel before about feeding in his private quarters, especially from the female cultists, because of the talk it inspired. Raziel had merely rolled his eyes at the rumors. "Better they entertain themselves with petty gossip than speculate on the truth," he had said.

Shadya's skin was pale and marked from a lifetime in the darkness of Zephon's cathedral. She had been born into servitude. Perhaps not here, perhaps in the mines or traded here from some other clan. No matter where she came from, she was brought up to believe that the vampires she served were no less than gods. Dark, hungry gods.

She stepped into the Zephonim abode wearing a poor, faded blue dress, a donation from Erste Stadt. As he held the door open for her he noticed that she walked shoulders back, chin up, and her stride was both purposeful and fleeing. Her pride was so radiant that even with her arms wound nervously around her chest she looked strong and defiant. New clothes were not the sole reason for her stature. For the first time in her life, Shadya was growing a full head of hair. A thick blanket of shining, black hair hugged her scalp. The frayed edges of her dress swam around her ankles as she faced him. "This is the last time."

She's been building herself up for this moment for days, Raziel thought. He held back a sigh. "There's no need to be confrontational. My word is my bond. You know where to find me, so you may see me whenever you are ready to have your future told."

She she leaned back warily as he approached her. He pushed himself to see past her distrust to the rich hazel of her eyes. Making no sudden moves, he reached out and cupped her cheek in his cloven hand. As he held her gaze her posture shrank slowly and her cheeks paled. Try as he might, the fear in her eyes still made his stomach turn.

Had he not been completely patient with her all this time? Had he not taken extra care so as not to break or humiliate her? He left his mark hidden on the others, but she went from him without a scratch or blemish to be found. Was that not exactly what he promised? Could she not try to look at him the way he looked at her? "I am _honestly_ trying to help you people."

Shadya cut her eyes away from him and burrowed them into the floor. Undeterred, he touched the tips of his claws to her chin, guiding her back to him with gentle insistence. "I-I know," she stammered, finding her voice at last. "But this is still the last time."

He felt a slight catch in his throat. "Very well."

At least for tonight he would not be alone. If she did not change her mind in Erste Stadt, he would find others. Maybe he would find another woman who reminded him of one of his wives. He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her. Her lips did not move with his until he stroked her hair.


End file.
